<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>What Happens on the Razor Crest by Anonymous</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28378857">What Happens on the Razor Crest</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Din Djarin, F/M, Femdom, Identity Porn, Light BDSM, Praise Kink, Public Humiliation, Undercover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:35:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28378857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“What is that?” you say.</p><p>“It’s nanotech blindfold, it will mold itself to the shape of your eyes and won’t come off without a safe word being spoken aloud. No accidental slip or movement will shake it off. You wear it, you are in control.”</p><p>He moves close to you now and suddenly you can feel the cold Beskar of his helmet touching the side of your face and it might be your imagination but you think you can feel his breath on your neck, “Say the word without my say so and I will kill you.”</p><p>-----<br/>The mission was simple: plant a tracker on the Mandalorian's ship so the Empire can find him. If only you had known how wrong the mission would go, you might have refused to take it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>134</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What Happens on the Razor Crest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePurpleAvenger/gifts">ThePurpleAvenger</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You feel the slide of latex on your skin and try not to look in the mirror as you change out of the black uniform of the empire into the sensua bindings that were prepared for this mission. In the vacuum of space, everything feels cold and no amount of heat can chase it away. You are on a ship heading planetside but you still feel like the emptiness of space is chasing you. The latex wraps around your arms and legs in thin lines, spiraling up to the bikini covering your torso. The leather ends around your neck, creating a faux-halter. It was quite a change from the harsh lines of the imperial uniform. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You fold your arms over your chest as you step out of the bathroom, black heels making a clicking noise on the durasteel floors. Linon sees you from the pilot’s seat and lets out a whistle, “Looking like that, this mission will be over before the sunrise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You turn away, feeling heat in your cheeks even if the color wasn’t noticeable in your complexion. You had been tasked by Moff Gideon to find out the planned route of a bounty hunter only known as “The Mandalorian”. He arrived in a location and left just as quickly, and imperial trackers hadn’t been able to get a read on him. However, spies had notes of him taking lovers in different planets and towns he visited so you had been dispatched in order to gain access to his ship and plant a tracker so he could be followed. You weren’t given much information; however, you were told that he had an asset that was considered extremely valuable to the empire and needed to be found at any cost. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The empire had connections on the planet you were landing on and you were going undercover as a dancer in one of the nearby clubs. Hopefully, you would be able to catch the eye of the Mandalorian and find your way to his ship. Your mission goal was clear but the specifics were left up to you. While you weren’t force-sensitive your position was more similar to the Emperor’s Hands than most imperial spies meaning you were given a certain amount of leeway involving the execution of your missions. However, considering the outfit that was prepared for this particular outing, it was clear which way mission control believed this venture would go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You feel the ship land and jolt out of your thoughts. It was time. You nod at Linon and exit the ship, nothing with you but the clothes on your back and the small tracker in a hidden pocket of the sensua bindings. You didn’t have so much as a dagger. He would notice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You slip into the club almost immediately from the ship, not even having a moment to feel the cool night air. Inside, the club was sweltering. Lights in shades of purple, blue, and red flickered in every direction and loud music with strong bass tones made the ground feel alive. It hardly looked like the sort of place a Mandalorian would be found. However, this is where the intel led and the intel was very rarely wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You are ushered behind the bar by a Twi’lek with a too-large smile handed you a tray of drinks and whispers, “You must be the agent, take this and serve the customers, take orders, if you can’t blend in well enough to be a server you don’t deserve to find him. He should be here within the hour, I heard from a source that he left his son with a nearby mechanic so he’s alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nod and grab the tray, mindlessly serving customers and taking orders, the thump of the bass becoming routine as you move through the crowded club. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Time seems to pass in a faded blur and you are turning towards the bar to grab some more drinks when you feel it. The music doesn’t stop but there is a distinct shift in the air and you know before you even turn around. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>here. The shape in the doorway is roughly six feet tall and the silver armor reflects the lights. For a moment, the shape hesitates before making his way to the bar. You meet the eye of the Twi’lek bartender from earlier and set down the tray of drinks, switching places with them seamlessly and walking over to the man sitting at the bar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What will it be,” you say, your voice breezy and open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silver and black lines of his helmet stare back and his head tilts for a moment before he says, “Corellian Nectar,” in a deep voice. There is a moment of hesitation before he adds, “bring a straw.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stop the smile from reaching across your face until you are turned away. This is going to be all too easy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way he is holding his shoulders shows that he is clearly uncomfortable in this setting, he needs to feel relaxed, calm. Likely he had been bullied into “going out” by whoever he had met before coming here. This wasn’t his natural environment. If you could make him feel comfortable, feel safe, you would have him. All of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You set the drink down in front of him and he starts, seeming brought out of his thoughts, “Here you go,” you say, voice still open and light, “One Corellian Nectar...with a straw.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You say the last part with a smirk in your voice and the Mandalorian looks up at you, tilting his helmet again, “Uh, thanks,” he says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The helmet moves in a slow motion looking right then left, scanning the room. You move down, into his personal space and in a confiding tone of voice say, “This isn’t your usual scene is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Mandalorian lets out a soft chuckle, deep and clear despite the helmet and vocal modulator, “That obvious?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As a Gungan on Tatooine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t,” he waves his hand, seemingly trying to find the words, “Get out much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The job?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Not quite, more a recent responsibility.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” You lean closer, close enough to see your reflection in the silver of his helmet. Maybe he’d let something slip, a phrase, an adjective, something to help her find out what asset he might have. Unfortunately, the Mandalorian leans back, disengaging from their short conversation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s of no concern for tonight, thank you for bringing my drink….”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Na’asade,” you say, plucking the pseudonym from your list of many, “But people call me Sadee. It’s no problem, simply doing my job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s silent, shoulders still tense and so you make what would be eye contact with any other person and speak again, “And what might I call you? I’m assuming you are the Mandalorian everyone has been talking about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is silent for a moment before saying, “Some have called me Mando.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, Mando,” you say, testing the name on your tongue, “I suppose that there wouldn’t be anything else I could do to make you more comfortable?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The helmet moves down, looking at the drink in his hands, untouched, “Nothing for now,” he says at last. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laugh, breezy and light before gliding off with a swift, “All right then, but I’ll be keeping an eye on you! A man who works as hard as you do deserves a night off!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the night, you can feel his eyes following you. Perfect. You don’t know the exact moment but something you did captured his attention. You can’t be too forward, too obvious, you have laid a trap and now you have to wait for the perfect time to spring it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t move, doesn’t order another drink. Sometimes he shifts in his seat, looking uncomfortable but he doesn’t leave. You move closer to him after another hour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looking to top that off?” you say, motioning to his mostly-finished singular drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks like you’ve been hanging around here for a while, planning on leaving anytime soon? My shift is off in 10 minutes if you are looking to order another drink now is the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hear him take a breath before he says, “And if I’m looking to leave in 10 minutes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All alone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stands up and you lean towards him, “Is that an invitation?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Follow me and find out,” he says, before moving towards the exit. You make a motion at the bartender and they nod and you move around the bar and follow Mando outside the bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cold air hits you like a wall. Goosebumps break out on your skin and while you had managed to forget how exposed your outfit was in the heat of the club, it is all too obvious now that you were outside. You felt every inch of your body become aware of the temperature. You look over and see Mando leaning against the side of the bar, your nipples hardening in the cold and you feel them pressing against the latex of the sensua bindings. They were almost painfully hard and when you run your hands over them quickly in a desperate attempt to not look quite so exposed in front of the target you had to stifle a gasp from the sensitivity. Fuck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You try to shake off the feeling and instead walk towards Mando, thanking every god in the galaxy that the streets were not filled with sand, allowing you to walk in heels. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where to?” You ask, trying to keep control of the situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a ship,” Mando offers, deep voice sounding lower and louder than in the bustle and bass of the club. It cuts through the quiet night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nod. This was perfect. You just to get him to his ship, have him let his guard down, and plant the tracker. The plan seemed to be going perfectly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made a motion around his shoulder and you stiffened for a moment before realizing that he was taking off his cloak and suddenly you felt a warm weight around your shoulders. Oh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You looked cold,” he said, “Was I wrong? I don’t know the temperature sensitivity of your species.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shook your head, “No you weren’t it’s certainly colder here than inside, thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s no problem,” he says, echoing your words from earlier, “simply doing my job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he turns, heading towards the shipyards and you follow. He walks at a slow enough pace that you can walk at a comfortable pace in your heels and you wonder if he’s doing it on purpose. As you make your way towards his ship, you try desperately to figure out ways to have him let down his guard, perhaps there was a way to remove the helmet...no, his sect of Mandalorians never let living beings see their faces, you knew that much from the briefings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly you are at a gangplank leading into a ship. For a moment, you hesitate, just a moment but Mando catches it. He turns around towards you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” you say, voice sure, “Just haven’t seen a ship like this before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mando shrugs, “It’s pre-empire,” he offers up as an explanation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You are led into his ship and up a ladder into a back storage room with a large bed and soft yellow lights set into the ceiling. You take a moment to move the tracker from your clothing to behind your ear, ready to be deployed at a moment’s notice. He looks around for a second, or at least the helmet looks around. He sits on the bed and seems unsure of what to do next. Perfect. You couldn’t have been sure if his insecurity extended to these sorts of situations but you were certainly not above taking advantage of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You bring yourself up to your full height and drop the cloak to the floor, Mando’s eyes following it as it pools around your feet. Slowly, so slowly, you put one foot up near his left thigh and begin to unclasp your heel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” you begin, voice soft, “Does the helmet stay on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Mando says, fast and without hesitation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You drop the first shoe and it hits the floor with a metallic thud. You lower your now bare foot and bring your other leg up onto the bed, undoing your other shoe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And there is no way around that little rule?” You say, leaning over your leg to reach the straps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a pause, enough of a pause that you know there is a loophole. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No living being can see my face,” Mando says at length. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if I wasn’t to see your face?” You ask barefooted, leaning into Mando’s space, hand touching the cold Beskar of his chest plate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would need a guarantee,” he says and you nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything you need.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mando gets up quickly and moves to a small panel in the wall that opens to reveal what looks like a black length of rope. However, it seems to be moving, twitching in his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is that?” you say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nanotech blindfold, it will mold itself to the shape of your eyes and won’t come off without a safe word being spoken aloud. No accidental slip or movement will shake it off. You wear it, you are in control.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moves close to you now and suddenly you can feel the cold beskar of his helmet touching the side of your face and it might be your imagination but you think you can feel his breath on your neck, “Say the word without my say so and I will kill you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is not ideal but you figure you will have time at some point to plant the tracker. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deal,” you say </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The word is Beskar,” he says and you nod in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Mando is pressing on the back of your neck and your vision goes dark. The silence in the room is deafening. Every creak of the ship seems so loud. You sit on the bed, legs spreading wide and you rest your elbows on your knees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m wearing it,” you say, “does this mean I am in charge now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Mando says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, an opportunity to take control. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good Boy,” you say, holding onto your control of the situation despite your current lack of vision. “Now take off all your armor and come sit in front of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hear a noise of metal and leather as Mando takes off his armor, you can’t tell how long it lasts but before too much time passes you hear soft footfalls on the steel and someone comes to rest in front of you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here,” he says and his voice is softer without the mask, more hesitant than ever before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You reach out slowly and your hand connects with a shoulder. You move your hand up to his shoulder and neck until you come to rest your hand on his jawline. You hold the corner of his jaw and tilt it upward so he is presumably looking at your face. He has hair, thick, curling hair and you move your hand so that your fingers are buried it in and then you clench your hand, making Mando gasp as you jerk his head up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good job little bounty hunter,” you say and your voice is no longer breezy and innocent, this is the imperial spymaster, no more masks, simply control. If Mando notices he doesn’t care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now undress me, take your time, worship me and I just might ask what you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You feel hands on your thighs, callouses from years of blaster fighting and piloting on his fingers. He unties the binding on your legs and moves up your torso to your arms and neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are so beautiful,” he says, deft fingers unlacing the winding strips of latex.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are amazing like this,” he says, hands coming up to cup your breasts, fingers running over your nipples and you can feel them get hard and you arch up from his touch, back leaning up from the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love taking care of you,” he says, unwinding the final bindings from your arms. Luckily this particular outfit is easy to get on and off. He pauses at your neck, hesitant to peel the clothing off of you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on little hunter,” you say, encouraging, “don’t be shy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You feel the air hit the small parts of your body that weren’t already exposed. And you let out a soft moan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good Boy,” you say, moving your hand up his torso to come to his hair again. You can feel him, although not see him, looming above you, his breath was coming in gasps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now as a reward, what do you desire?” You say, confident despite your lack of vision. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want...I want you to touch me,” he says, “please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All you had to do was ask,” you say, putting both hands on either side of his hips and guiding him to the bed so now you are looming over him. Without vision, the act has become so much more physical than before and you can feel your thighs squeezing either side of his torso as you straddle him in the pitch-black. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You place your left hand on his lower stomach, palm spread out, fingers brushing against the hair leading downwards. He gasps again and you move your right arm so it is resting near his head and lean in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this what you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes...yes..he says,” and before he can say anything more you move fast and wrap your hand around the base of his already erect cock and tighten your hand around it, almost painfully but not quite, stroking it from base to tip and back down again, a harsh movement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mando moans in pleasure and moves closer to your touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to be good?” you ask, stroking his cock with the same harsh movements.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to be good,” he says weakly straining on the bed, hips shaking as you find a rhythm, moving your hand up and down his cock as he moans beneath you. Then, just as his gasps are getting louder you stop, your right hand moving to cup his balls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop,” you say, “Not yet, only when I say so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mando lets out a shuddering breath and although you can’t see his face, can’t even begin to imagine what it might look like, you imagine his pupils are wide with desire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to serve me,” You say, “I want you to serve me and only once I am satisfied can you find your own reward.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You let go of his cock and move to lie down on the bed back touching the sheets. You hear Mando move and then feel his lips on your mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he says as he kisses where your jawline meets your ear, “Thank you,” he says as he spread kisses down your neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nips at your breasts and one hand cups your left breast, fingers flicking the nipple, while his other hand ventures lower to your clit. He moves his fingers in a slow circle and you gasp as he touches you, feeling warmth pool in your belly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You are already wet when his fingers slide down to your entrance and you can feel the hardness of his cock against your legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am going to lay here,” you say, “and if you are going to want that reward then you are going to have to do the work for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, please,” Mando is saying as his cock gently pushes against your entrance. You feel a jolt of electricity as his cock begins to enter you. He slides in almost seamlessly and falls into a rhythm, panting and gasping as you lay on the bed, shaking in ecstasy. His lips move to your nipples where he nips and bites with his teeth. You feel pins and needles rising up your arms and you clutch the bedsheets with your hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember…,” you say between gasps, “If you finish before me there will be punishment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mando shifts the tempo of his thrusts, moving instead to a slower, deeper motion and you moan as he moves in and out. Then his cock is gone and his lips have been removed from your breasts and you can feel him moving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then you feel a tongue, long and flat lick a stripe up your clit and you moan. He slid three fingers inside of her, still tender from his cock earlier. You relax and your hips begin to move in a circular motion as he licks at your clit, tongue darting around flat then pointed and all the while finger fucking you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your hips shudder against Mando’s face and you press your heat into him as you moan, so close. Your hands go to his hair for desire of grasping, of grounding. You feel a fire working its way up to your spine into your mind from your belly. He continued with this, licking at you while finger fucking you as your hips stuttered against his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The heat came to a burning point and then you were gasping and squeaking, curling your fingers into his hair and clenching your walls around his fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To Mando’s credit, he didn’t stop for a moment as you rode out the waves of your orgasm and continued to eat you out. Your clit was so sensitive that it was almost painful for him to continue licking at your clit. It felt heavy and throbbing with every movement but you couldn’t bear to move away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Another,” he said and you pull at his hair, hearing him moan in ecstasy against your clit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So desperate for my cunt,” you say between moans, sweating and already in the throes of another wave of pleasure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me what you want,” you say to Mando, annoyed when he doesn’t respond immediately, still buried into your clit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“TELL ME.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mando removes himself for a moment and says, “You, I want you, please, you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nod, happy. “Good, now finish this and you will have the pleasure of your reward.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You push his hair down and feel it to make sure he isn’t looking around. With his head buried in your clit, he can’t see your movements as you take the tracker out from behind your ear and place it on the bed. You press down on the small tracker to activate it and as you hear the beep you coincide it with a particularly loud moan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then you are coming again, the pleasure so strong and your pussy feels too sensitive so with the energy you have, you flip Mando over and hold him down against the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good Bounty Hunter,” you say, hand caressing his cheek again. He has stubble. You feel his breath hot against your hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you ready for your reward?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You feel him nod and you chuckle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Such a filthy boy, I should make you clean up the mess you’ve surely made with all this but since you did what I asked so nicely, you will have your reward.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You slid down the length of Mando’s torso and took his cock in your mouth with an expert touch. You swallowed Mando’s cock deep into your mouth, not minding as your own saliva drolled down your chin. You bobbed your head up and down, moving into a rhythm, fondling Mando’s balls with one hand and bracing yourself on the bed with the other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You can hear Mando panting, straining in your mouth. You remove yourself from his cock with a wet pop, smirking up in the direction his pants are coming from, “Enjoying your reward? Is anything wrong?” you ask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing’s wron-” Mando starts but then you go in for the kill before he can finish his sentence. Your tongue travels up Mando’s cock in a hot line, your skillful tongue curling around the underside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You heard Mando moaning, “Fuck, god, yes, fuck,” and you felt Mando’s hand wrap around your wrist. You felt sweat forming on your brow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t stop,” Mando got out weakly. You obliged, slowly moving your tongue in a line, up and down Mando’s cock. You move your hand so you are grabbing at his pubic hair and you give it a pull, simultaneously pulling Mando up while also shoving his cock deeper into your throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he was filling up your mouth and you were swallowing quickly. You remove yourself from him with a wet pop and you sit there for a moment, panting. Mando still isn’t completely under control. His hips were twitching slightly, the muscles trying to rock upwards, and he was making the most delicious little moans. You move so you are lying down next to Mando and he wraps his arms around you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You felt so good,” Mando says, whispering on the back of your neck “so perfect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t felt this way,” you say, “in forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It almost hurts to know that the empire will soon be hunting him down, tearing him apart for the asset he is hiding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” he says and then you feel a prick on your neck and suddenly everything goes dark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you wake up, the blindfold is gone. The yellow lights are back on and you see Mando, in full armor, pointing a blaster at you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Up,” he says, gesturing with the blaster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You scowl. Fuck. You reach for your clothes but Mando charges the blaster and you pause, “Don’t touch that,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t even allow me the dignity of getting dressed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not when what little clothing you wore could be filled with traps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wrap the sheet around you, naked, and make your way down the ladder to the loading dock of the ship. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What gave me away?” You ask, genuinely curious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” you say, angry. He had known the whole time? Then this was all for nothing...fuck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mando opens the gangplank and shoves you out roughly. You hit the ground and scrape your knees. The sunlight is blinding after so much darkness and you take a moment to readjust. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A woman, a mechanic is standing behind you, holding a small green child in her arms. She looks down at you then raises her eyebrows and says to Mando, “I see you had fun last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No more so than usual,” he says with a chuckle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Another assassin?” The woman says, passing the child to Mando who puts the Child in a sling with one hand while still training the blaster on you with the other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Imperial spy this time,” Mando says, pretending you don’t exist, sitting there, naked and dirty in the street wearing only a sheet. “You would think their intelligence network would tell them how easily they stand out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A crowd is beginning to gather and you feel your cheeks heating up as strangers gawk at you, pulling the sheets tighter around your naked body. You would get Mando back for this, he would pay for what he has done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mando turns back to his ship, saying his goodbyes to the woman. Then he looks at you and tucks his blaster away and throws something small at you. It’s the tracker you planted. So the mission truly was a failure in every sense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Next time,” he says, “Don’t use a name that means nobody in Mando’a.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he is gone, the ship is lifting off and flying off to parts unknown, at least for the empire. You get up, trying to ignore the strangers' starings at you as you walk down the main road of town to get back to where your ship is waiting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>People catcall and whistle at you as you walk down the street and you feel shame and humiliation as you struggle to walk barefoot while keeping the sheet wrapped around you. One woman tries to tear the sheet off and you turn around and snarl at her to leave off and thankfully she backs away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You make it back to the ship in one piece thankfully and Linon gives you a glance when they see you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks like the mission went well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off and get us out of here,” you say, slamming the door to your room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You clean up and change, getting into bed to have a proper sleep, and forget everything that happened in the past 24 hours. You go to turn off the light but the thoughts of darkness fill you with the whispers of a faceless voice saying “so good, so perfect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sleep with the lights on, feeling the shame of humiliation and the sting of rejection.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>